THE SUITE IN ROOM 1313

Julian doesn't hit me, he doesn't scream, he just doesn't let the sunset.
We've been in this hotel for three days, and the clock on the wall hasn't moved past 5:01 PM. The sky outside is a stagnant, chemical orange the kind of light that makes your head ache. Every time I try to walk out the front door, I end up back in the bathroom, staring at my own tired face in the mirror.
Julian says he loves me. He says he's giving me everything, but as I find jars of my own hair and old memories hidden in the minibar, I realize I'm not his fiancée. i'm his collection,
and in this room, there's no such thing as checking out.